Self Serving Seasons
by greysnyper
Summary: Mommy's not dead, daddy's not dead, Brucie's not dead.


She had literally walked out of the foggy, rainy Gotham streets and into their family. It had likely been her charm which did them in. And she made a most wonderful nanny, reciting backwards rhymes easily and impressing the boy with the way she could bend spoons and make his toys disappear with simple commands.

The child was smitten.

"Now Ms. Giovanni," Thomas said, nearly at the end of her first day. "Don't go filling his head entirely with mysteries."

"Hush," consoled the wife, as she gave their nanny a smile which invited her to ignore him. "Brucie's still quite young. Let him be entertained by the mysterious."

And as Martha lead Thomas from the room, doting from his arm, she quietly added so only he could hear, "you shouldn't be so jealous because you cannot see through Ms. Giovanni's tricks."

"I am _not_ jealous, woman," Thomas exclaimed, though keeping his voice at her volume--hushed. "I just don't want our son trying and failing to understand the mechanics behind them."

"Are you afraid that he'll fail?" cooed Mrs. Wayne. "Or that he'll be clever and succeed, thus losing the magic in the process?"

Their conversation had been meant for their ears alone, though not through any intention of keeping secrecy. Mrs. Wayne just enjoyed these private moments with her husband, where she could tease and poke until something was revealed in Thomas, which she'd always look back on and adoringly cherish.

And yes, the man was concerned over the loss of his son's innocence. She could hear it in his unwillingness to answer.

"My Dear, you are too much. Don't have regrets over hiring this woman to look after our son. I like her very much and I can feel that her intentions are good. It's a mother's instinct, Tom."

Thomas sighed, acknowledging that he had been starting to feel doubts over "Zee" Giovanni's appearance--though he too found himself fond of her. "I suppose you're right, as always."

Mrs. Wayne laughed, a light sound. "As always, hah! And do not worry about Bruce. If he fumbles to uncover the mysteries of the world, he will solve them all--but only when he's ready. Let him try and fail, and enjoy himself at it. That's how boys grow. When he succeeds, there will only be more mysteries to baffle him. I'm certain Ms. Giovanni could keep him on his toes and entertained for years. But for certain, figuring out the mechanics to those magic tricks will keep you up at night much more often than him."

Thomas Wayne snorted, and their private moment ended with the start of their lights-out routine.

Someone sighed, distanced from the cozy little manner. So they would keep their nanny. This part of the plan would work. Guilt still reddened the listener's ears. Spying on the Waynes had felt wrong, even though he could justify it as an assurance of Zatanna's placement.

He had been indulging, and he knew better...

"Kal!"

The rainy, foggy weather of late had transformed into a rainy, windy spell. It took the outskirts of Gotham completely, and the tall grasses rolled with it. The wind carried the call, and from the cloud came a green glow.

Stewart felt as if he had to shout to be heard, but Kal could make out the call just fine.

"No luck?" Kal asked, waiting for a report.

"None," announced the Lantern. He made the brief droplets of moisture visible just by being there. Small specks of green would flicker in and out of easy visual range. If Kal tried hard enough, he could track their progress even beyond the ring's aura.

He used his senses to pick something else up. "Drop your aura immediately!"

John didn't understand the details like Kal could, but he obeyed. Instantly, they were two dark, indistinguishable shapes in the field. Stewart couldn't have heard the childish gasp, or the soft patter of feet moving across carpet.

Little Bruce's hands and nose pressed at his window. The boy would have believed himself imagining lightning, or glow bugs perhaps. Still too riled up after the changes in the house to go to bed this soon after lights out...

It gives Kal a warm feeling, and he belatedly notices John staring at him.

"I get this," the Lantern says.

Kal turns his head to face the other and lets his brows furrow. "Pardon?"

John shakes his head. "I didn't come here to report that we've had nil on finding the guy. I came over here to get your help, which I thought would require pushing. You and Zee seemed dead set on taking up watch here. I understand the logic there, since with you out here and she in there, nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing will happen, though, Kal. Bad guy's not even here yet. Ring says it's more likely that we'll catch the guy as soon as he transports _into_ this time-frame. And frankly, I agree with the ring."

"John," Kal sighs, speaking over the flap of his cape; the roar of the wind; the resigned sigh of a boy. "We just want to be prepared for _anything._"

John Stewart snorts, but his eyes trail over to the stately house a good jog away. "Sure, Kal. Sure."

It's the type of tone that starts becoming a challenge, or a dare. This is self-serving. You are being self-serving...

"Look, man," John walks through tall grass to put a hand on Kal's shoulder. "We all want what's best for Bruce. I'm going to go join Diana again, and we'll narrow down where this guy's going to jump out of. Since we don't want him seeing us and freaking out only to go further back in time to erase any of us, I'm asking for your help. Nobody's faster. Zatanna will look after the Waynes."

He's right. "You're right."

A quick, stolen glance shows a startlingly unfamiliar Bruce sitting in his sheets with a furiously puzzled look on his face. Zatanna is downstairs meditating by the fireplace. Thomas and Martha Wayne are sharing a bed, Martha snoozing and Thomas perusing a novel by an antique lamp.

They had all agreed not to meddle in the affairs of the Wayne family, before coming back here. Even now, Kal understands that Zatanna could erase her presence once their mission is through, and he could restrain from the urge to burst into that upstairs room making the Waynes promise not to die in front of their son. Easy, because he's smarter than that.

But being here, watching. A more gentler, innocent scene. Even experiencing it seems like he's prolonging the chances Bruce has to be happy. It's foolish, and he knows better. He knows it's not really so much for his love of this time, but watching the child and that happy, loving family--it almost makes up for having to watch in horror as Batman disappeared right in front of him.

~__

_"Zee, how did you do that?" He doesn't ask with a demand, despite having grown up privileged with wealthy parents. It's only impulsive wonder. "Where do all the invisible things go?"___

_She smiles and it makes her nose wrinkle. She pokes his in reply. "The positive thinker sees the invisible, feels the intangible, and achieves the impossible."___

_Her answers to him are often like this.___

_Bruce frowns, though he seems reluctant to push further, feeling as if the answers are like this because they__have__to be. That direction of thought goes deeper than he's willing to follow, so he asks her if positive thinking alone achieves those goals.___

_Zatanna marvels at the way the universe works, even here and now. "You don't__have__to think positively to achieve these things. But the other way is harder."___

_Bruce nods. He understands now.___

_Later, though...is a time and place not meant for the friends of Bruce Wayne._


End file.
